Days Without Contact
by krstic
Summary: Rated T for course language. She survived the car accident, though she lost her first love. She falls into depression, and counts the days since she lost him. The day she lost her first love, he lost his best friend. He wants to help her, but doesn't know where to start. He begins with the days. Can he make her stop counting, make her let go of the past?
1. Chapter 1

_Fandom:_ **Kickin' It**

_Pairing:_ **Jerry and Kim**

**Written by krstic**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kickin' It; all rights belong to their respectful owners. I make no money out of this, as this is simply fan-made.**

_Author's Note: _**Don't hate me for shipping non-canon, guys. I plan on making this a short-fic, most likely a few chapters, though that may change, as it all depends on where the story's going. The Spanish words in this chapter, I found using Google Translate. As always, I thank my amazing Beta Reader, MirandNack, for Beta reading! Read and Review, please!**

* * *

**Chapter One:**

Sink or Swim

_Days Without Contact: __**0**_

It was the day of Jack's tournament. On that day, he would be competing at some dojo, in a city three hours outside of Seaford. He had been practicing for the past four weeks, and now, at the end of the summer, August 28th, he was ready. Rudy would be driving Jack to the tournament, and had allowed Jack to pick one person to come with them as they had an extra seat in Rudy's car. Out of all his friends, out of all the boys at the dojo, he picked a girl – he picked her.

When he asked her the day before, she had stood there for a few moments, in shock, before she came back to reality and replied to his question, her cheeks bright red, her voice high and breathy. Jack had smiled to himself and said, "See you tomorrow then," and she had stayed at the dojo until her shock had left and pure happiness had set in.

She told her parents and they wished Jack good luck and told her to have fun and be safe. She reassured them that nothing bad would happen, since Rudy knew where he was going and the trip was not _that_ far.

Hours after he asked her, they stood in the dojo, waiting for Rudy to get his car started. She focused intently on the black flats on her feet, trying to not wrinkle her dress as her hands were shaking, while he kept checking his watch.

They made small talk for a while, but their conversation eventually turned to Jack's upcoming tournament.

"Do you think I'm gonna do good?"

"I think you'll do great," she smiled. "You're the best one here for a reason."

He chuckled and she blushed because she made him smile.

"You think so?"

"For sure, Jack."

Rudy walked in, sweat dripping down his forehead and told them that he got the car started. They left the dojo, locking the entrance door as they did, and heading for the parking lot, leaving the mall.

The sky was an ugly shade of ash gray, and it was rather cold considering September had not even started yet. They entered the car, an old Honda Civic, and left the parking lot. They drove away, outside Seaford; away from their hometown.

An hour into the trip, Kim began to feel tired. She rested her head against the cool glass and closed her eyes. She heard Rudy and Jack talking from the front, there was the sound of paper unfolding, and Kim guessed that one of them had a map with them.

As she drifted off to sleep, she heard snippets of their conversation:

"You sure we're going the right way?"

"Positive."

"How do you know?"

"Jack, I've taken this road a million times."

"Oh, really?"

"…. No, but that doesn't matter. Where are we now?"

There was the sound of someone pocking paper, and Jack spoke.

"Heading for that bridge. We have to cross that river, remember?"

Kim fell asleep. Her dreams were murky and dark, like the color of the sky above her head. As she slept, she was oblivious to what was happening around her.

Jack was asleep in his seat, while Rudy was growing very tired in the driver's seat. They had been driving for hours now, and after a while, one ends up getting drowsy. He closed his eyes for a minute, and then forced them open.

When he spoke, his voice was rough, and he blinked furiously, "Stay awake."

His eyes closed again, this time, a bit longer then the first time. A few seconds in, he realized what he was doing, and shook his head, trying to regain full consciousness. His dreams were empty, yet sleep was tempting.

"C'mon Rudy."

He kept his eyes awake for a while (biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, at which point he decided to stop), but sleep beat him. She flooded his mind, and he could not shake her off until they were halfway across the bridge.

But by then, it was too late.

His eyes shot open, realizing too late that he had turned the wheel in the direction of the bridge railing. As an instinct, he slammed on the brakes, though they did not help. Rudy screamed and both Kim and Jack snapped awake.

It all happened very quickly; the car smashed through the railing and they began falling. They were all screaming, with each second the sound grew louder. Jack had left his window open, and Kim had her seatbelt on the tightest setting. The seconds went by slowly, it seemed as if time had decided to meddle with them and make this traumatic event even more painful.

Painful, because in those slow passing seconds before they collided with the cool water below them, they saw their entire life flash before their eyes. When that does happen, it begins with all their happy memories, everything that makes them smile, but changes in a matter of moments to all their sad memories, all the things they_ have_ suffered and everything that they probably _will _one day.

The collision.

It came after they see their lives flash before them. The water, it was like snow. Even though she rarely saw snow (she only saw it when she visited her Grandmother in San Bernardino County), she knew what it felt like - cold and numbing against her flesh, it made her want to curl up in a ball and hope that she could generate enough body warmth to make it.

She screamed louder as she saw Jack's face smash against the glove compartment and the crimson blood appear on different areas of his face. Meanwhile, Rudy bashed his right eye against the steering wheel, cursing as he did. She on the other hand, was relatively safe, though there was a strong pain in her stomach as her seat belt dug deep into her front.

The water, the liquid snow, came rushing in through Jack's open window and the tiny cracks between the in the door frames. It filled the car in a matter of seconds, and left her struggling against her seatbelt. She felt something grab her wrist, clammy yet firm. Blinking as the water filled the inside of the car to brim; she noticed it was Jack's hand. He mouthed something, but all she saw were bubbles.

His hand then travelled down to her side, hitting the seat belt buckle and setting her free. The blood from his wounds floated in wispy shapes around his face, as he motioned for Rudy to swim through his open window. Rudy nodded feebly, and swam towards the window. He had to struggle to get through, but he managed in the end. Rudy's figure was barely out of view before Jack motioned for her to do the same.

She did as she was told, kicking her legs and moving her arms to the best as she could. The window did not fit her, for her dress and jacket were too much, so she stripped off her jacket, and forced her way through the narrow path to freedom.

She whipped her head around, searching for Jack.

Her heartbeat quickened, and her chest constricted. She felt as if her lungs were being squeezed to the point where she feared they would stop working.

Where she would die.

Jack's expression looked pained, and she doubted that he would manage for too long. Rudy's car was sinking deeper into the river, and the temperature kept dropping. She swam back to the car, and stuck her hands in, reaching for Jack's. She was trying to help him through.

Get him to safety.

They struggled immensely, their chests hurting greatly, their heads pounding, their bodies weakening. Some parts of the window broke off in the struggle, and she ended up cutting her hands in several places.

But they made it, made it to the surface.

She felt although she was dying, a part of her even wished that Death himself would swoop down and take her away.

And really, Death almost did.

The one thing that stopped him were the ambulances – they beat him to it.

Rudy had called them, the ambulances, letting them know what had happened and slurring the address. They arrived as soon as his two students surfaced from the river.

The two students in the water were brought to the shore and put on stretchers, while the young man was lifted from his crumpled position and taken into an ambulance.

The only thing she saw was how dark the sky had gotten. It was August, and yet it felt as if it was November. All she heard were the frantic shouts of medical personal as they placed her body onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. There must have been several ambulances there, because she saw neither Jack nor Rudy in hers.

They placed a mask to her face to help her breath and treated her cuts to the best that they could at the moment. The blood kept resurfacing and she fell asleep.

Or did she fall unconscious?

It all depends on perspective, really.

* * *

The rushed the boy into the emergency room first, his platinum white stretcher growing filthy with the dirty river water and blood. He had trouble breathing on the way to the hospital, probably due to having been underwater for too long.

Next came the young man, he was not in that bad of shape, but it had taken them a while to arrive to the emergency room, since he kept fighting his mask so he could talk on the phone.

He kept saying he had to call people.

"I need to call Milton…"

"...Eddie..."

".. .Jerry …"

His voice was weak and cracked several times when he reached the people he needed to contact.

They were at the Seaford Hospital in a matter of minutes – Eddie, Milton and Jerry.

The made it just in time to see them wheel in the girl. Her blonde hair was messy, wet and tangled. Her eyes were now open, looking at her surrounding in horror. Her chest was heaving, her breaths quick and short, her hands clawing at the white sheets on her stretcher. Her lips were slightly parted and her skin very much pale.

When Milton saw her, the poor boy fainted, mumbling a soft "Holy Christmas nuts" as he fell onto the tiled floor. When Eddie saw her, he ran for the phone to contact her family, his, and Jack's to tell them what happened and that they needed to come.

Though when Jerry saw her, he did not faint. Nor did he run for the phone. He stood there, his face going pale, his eyes growing wide. His eyebrows furrowing at the sight, his brain refusing to see what his eyes saw. It hit him, as they moved her past the waiting room and into the hallway leading to the operating room.

"_Mierda._ Shit."

He ran after the doctors taking her away. They could not do that, they could not take her away.

His words were said frantically, quickly, desperately. He was scared, not for himself, but for her.

"Yo! Wait up! I know her! _Kim_!"

Her name was Kim, and all she needed at the moment to trigger an emotional disaster was someone to say her name.

"_Jerry_!"

Her head whipped around, suddenly feeling very light-headed. She saw him there, fighting to catch up with her. He looked very scared, and when their eyes met, she started crying.

"Kim!" he rasped, finally catching up to her. The strings of his green hoodie bounced left and right as he jogged to keep up with her stretcher, "Kim, _chica_, stop crying, ok?"

More rushed words and tears.

"_Jerry._"

It was all she could say; she just kept saying his name. Over and over again through her sobs.

"_Jerry._"

"Kim, it's gonna be ok. I promise."

He gripped her hands in his, feeling the dried blood on her pale hands as her grip on his tightened.

"Excuse me," one of the nurses said to Jerry, "You have to go now."

They had reached the door that would lead them to the operating room, therefore, he was forced to let go. The results were heartbreaking.

Kim looked like a lost child, searching everywhere for him, her blonde curls streaked her face as she frantically tried to find Jerry. She needed to feel his hands holding hers, she needed to feel his comfort and his warmth. She needed to feel the love of a friend.

"_Jerry! Jerry!_"

His chest constricted and it took all of his will power to not go in after her as they opened the doors.

"I'll be here, Kim!" he called after her, "I'm not leaving, ok! I'll be waiting for you! You're gonna be ok! I promise!"

He needed her to be ok. He needed her to make it. He needed them all to make, even though, deep down, he could hear the voice of reason in his head telling him that someone would _unfortunately_ not make it.

* * *

When Kim woke up, the window outside her room showed her the blue-gray sky, and she figured it was really early in the morning. It took her a while for her eyes and ears to adjust to her surroundings; her eyes stung from the bright light, and her ears were buzzing for a few seconds. When it was over, she took in the appearance of her room.

The room was fairly small; she was in a small, rectangular bed and the walls were painted a lifeless white. The window which showed her what things looked like outside, was narrow yet tall, with silver blinds that hung by its sides. There was a small bedside table next to her, and on it was a plastic water bottle and a bottle of prescription medication. Kim tried to move her arms, but something restrained her. Her brown eyes traveled to her arms to see bandages wrapped around her wrists and a needle in her right hand. Her eyes followed up, pas the needle, and saw that it lead to plastic bag filled with IV fluids. Past the bag full of fluids, there was a monitor measuring her heart beat and how fast she breathed.

The thought of all the wires, all the tubes, needles and machines that she needed to be hooked up into her at the moment scared her. The drowsiness hit her all of a sudden and quite powerfully – she closed her eyes and let it envelope her in its sweet soft arms.

But then it hit her, a dream, or was it a memory?

Jerry. He was gripping her hands tightly and someone was wheeling her away on an odd bed. Next, there was the car crash and the blood from Rudy and Jack's faces filled her vision. Kim suddenly felt too scared to open her eyes, too scared because she felt that she would only see more things that she feared.

So she screamed.

She opened her mouth, and let her voice fill the air. Her voice was full of pain and she was begging someone, begging her nightmares to leave her alone.

"Help, no _stop_! Please! _Please_!"

She had not noticed the boy. Her eyes had not seen his figure; short black hair, thick black eyebrows, naturally tanned skin, tall with broad shoulders and eyes suddenly wide open. His face once peaceful as he slept in his chair in the corner of the room, now shocked to see the blonde screaming in her sleep.

What he did was an instinct, something he used to do for his younger sister, Gabriela, when she had her nightmares. It was a motion he had become accustomed to over the years, so he was not entirely surprised when he did it for Kim. He shot out of his chair, almost falling to the ground as his legs had not moved for hours, and reached for her swatting hands as she screamed.

"Shh! Shh," he said as gently as he could, "Kim, Kim, _chica_, it's ok. It's ok."

"No, no" she said, although a bit softer this time.

His hands found hers, not caring that they were bandaged in several places or that one of them had a needle in them. Their fingers entwined, her pale skin stood out against his tanned skin, and he gave her hands a firm squeeze.

"_Cara de muneca_…" he mumbled softly, "Doll Face." He noticed that when he spoke, she calmed down – just like Gabriela.

He felt her hands return a squeeze, though hers was much weaker, and her eyes opened. She said his name softly, her words falling out of her mouth, tumbling off the side of her hospital bed and into a crumpled heap on the floor. He gave a small, sad smile as their eyes locked.

"I told you I wouldn't leave you," he said quietly, "Promised down in the hallway."

She gave him a weak smile, her lips cracked and dry, yet she still looked happy.

There was a small silence, not an awkward one though, filled with tired grins and sleepy eyes, though she broke that silence with questions. The first question was about Rudy and if he was alright. Jerry told Kim that Rudy was ok. Their sensei and good friend had made it out of the accident with a black eye and a cut on his cheek and some bruises, not that bad considering what could have happened.

Then the second question came, which wiped the smile off his face and unintentionally hurt him. It was a question Kim had asked that she felt required an answer:

"Where's Jack?"

And when he told her, they ended up both crying. Kim broke down, letting her sobs escape her aching heart through her constricted throat. Jerry on the other hand, tried to save his dignity and not cry as much, though Kim clearly saw his tears even though he tried to hide them. They hugged and they cried for what seemed like forever, and in a way, that was understandable. What happened they had never wanted to happen, nor had they ever expected.

Jack had died.


	2. Chapter 2

_Fandom:_** Kickin' It**

_Pairing:_** Jerry and Kim**

**Written by krstic**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kickin' It; all rights belong to their respectful owners. I make no money out of this, as this is simply fan-made.**

_Author's Note:_** Thanks for the positive reviews on my first chapter, guys! I'd like to thank MirandNack for Beta Reading, and Just Keep Chasing Pavement for the lovely review you left me.**

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**Chapter Two:**

How Does It Feel

_Days Without Contact: __**1**_

After the crying and hugging was over, they sat in a sort of silence. It was not awkward, nor was it happy, if anything it was a sad, wordless silence. Neither of them knew what to say, so they just tried to not speak with each other.

As the sky outside changed from a cold, blue-gray to a warm orange and pink then finally to a bright blue, the silence continue. Kim asked for the magazine she found underneath her bed, and Jerry handed it to her. It was on old Vogue magazine, though she did not really read it, she only wanted it to have an excuse to escape the suffocating silence.

Wait, why were things so awkward? Jerry was her friend.

Oh wait; someone had just died.

She sighed unintentionally, and practically glared at the models in her magazine when she felt brown eyes look up from a sleeping position. His knees pulled up to his chest, sitting on the old green hospital lounge chair, his arms wrapped around his legs, resting his head against the green fabric of his sweater sleeve – he had been half-asleep.

And yet she kept him awake.

Or just awoken him, now.

It all depends on perspective, really.

* * *

At nine o'clock, a nurse came in and brought breakfast. She eyed Jerry for a moment before shoving a platter of food into his hands and leaving the room, off to feed the other patients. Her words had been both firm yet gentle:

"You looked hungry, hun."

Kim looked at her own plate of food, scrambled eggs, toast with jam, a pastry of some sort and a water bottle. She did not realize how hungry she was until she was halfway through her eggs.

Jerry ate his breakfast too, though a bit slower. Kim guessed that he was tired; she was not sure how long he had been awake.

She decided to ask.

"Since they brought you in," he replied, munching on his toast. She noticed he had scrapped the jam off.

"You don't like jam?"

"Hate it."

"Oh."

"My sister likes it, though."

Kim frowned, "You have a sister?"

Jerry gave her a small smile, "Yeah. She's in..." he thought for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing together, "Third grade."

They eased up after a while. Jerry talked about his family, how his sister had heard about her and how she considered her a "role model", at which she blushed profoundly, and how his mother was often busy at work, so he usually had to pick up his sister from school or friends' houses.

He told her he had to leave at twelve to go pick up his sister, but would be back later, and everything was fine until the conversation turned to Kim's family.

"Have they come to see me?"

And when Jerry said nothing, she knew that they had not.

"Do you know why?"

Her voice sounded hurt, and he did not blame her. He did not understand why her parents had not come, after all, their daughter had just been in a _car accident_, and yet they had not shown up. So, Jerry told Kim what Eddie had told him last night, when he had left to call any parents that he felt needed to be involved.

"They said they left for a business trip."

Kim frowned. "Business trip?"

"Yeah," Jerry continued, "They told Eddie – who told me – that when you told them you were going to the tournament, they would be leaving for a short business trip to LA, and that you could stay with a friend while they were gone."

In the back of her mind, Kim remembered a vague and fuzzy conversation with her mother about them going somewhere, so this seemed to be it.

"They'll probably be back as soon as they can."

When twelve o'clock came around, breakfast had been finished long ago, and the day had consisted of odd silences and Kim reading and re-reading her Vogue magazine and Jerry sleeping in his chair.

When it was time for him to leave, it felt odd for Kim. She had gotten used to Jerry's company, but said nothing except "Bye, Jerry," to which he replied with, "I'll see you later, Kim."

She said nothing, for she knew it was selfish to want him to stay.

And he said nothing, because she had not asked anything.

* * *

_Days Without Contact: __**2**_

She watched the sky change color outside her rectangular window and wondered what the temperature was like outside. She listened to the sound of the silver blinds on her window rattle at night along with the beeping of the machine monitoring her heart rate and breathing pattern, and though about life and what that word really meant. She trailed her fingers across the bandages on her wrists and wondered what the cuts looked like. She looked away when they changed her needle and IV fluids, as the thought of all of that inside of her made her sick. She read the Vogue magazine from cover to cover. She ate her meals and thought about Jerry asleep in the chair in the corner of the room. She thought about how he called her "girl" in Spanish. She listened to Rudy ramble on his phone at eleven o'clock at night when they released him from the hospital. She listened to Milton tell her about how he planned to ask out Julie, when he came to visit her, and accepted his bouquet of flowers. She watched Eddie as he spoke when he visited her (he came exactly twenty-two minutes after Milton left) - paying attention to the unintentional hand motions he made when he spoke. She accepted her parent's apologies when they told her they were sorry for not arriving sooner, but the fact that they came late truly hurt her. She thought about Jack, and quietly cried for an hour.

And then something clicked in her head.

An idea she had never thought about before, but (at two forty-five in the morning) seemed like good idea.

She decided to count.

Count how many days from the day since Jack died.

Three hours ago, it would have been a day, but now, as it was two forty-five in the morning, it was two days.

She decided that when she got home, she would find somewhere to keep track, but at the moment, she stored all of her information in her head.

Hours after she thought of her idea to count the days "without contact" from Jack, they released her from the hospital.

It was six o'clock in the afternoon, she knew, for she had checked the clock on the wall when the door had been opened to reveal her mother standing there.

Kim remembered that her mother had been smiling that day.

"Kim!" she said happily, "Oh Kim, you get to go home!"

Though, quite frankly, Kim was not sure if she _wanted_ to go home.

Over the past two days, Kim had gotten used to staying in the hospital. And as odd as it sounded, she had grown to like, no, _not mind_, her routines there. When a person gets used to something, change is unpleasant.

But she did it anyway, go home. After all, what other option did she have?

A nurse was called over, and when she entered, Kim felt that her hospital room was too full. She was used to her own company, sometimes that of Milton, Eddie and Jerry, so when she saw both her mother and the nurse inside, the walls seemed to shrink and the rectangular window with its noisy silver blinds seemed much smaller. The clock and the machine measuring her heart rate and breathing pattern seemed to chime louder.

The nurse removed Kim's needle, and helped the blonde out of bed. Kim's mother handed Kim some clothes that she had brought from home inside her bag, so Kim had something other to wear instead of her blue hospital gown.

When Kim had changed, she took the bouquet of flowers Milton had brought her with her.

"Where'd you get those?" her mother asked, when she noticed Kim's flowers.

Kim saw the slight distaste in her mother's voice when she saw what type of flowers Milton had gotten her. They were forget-me-nots, their bright blue color stood out against her dark sweater. Kim's mother hated forge-me-nots.

"Milton got them for me," Kim said in a small voice, as they walked out of the hospital.

The automatic doors opened for them, and as soon as they were outside, Kim's mother spoke again, "I wish that boy got you some _actual_ flowers. Something pretty-"

"Mom-"

"Something _red_. Red is _always_ lovely."

"Mom, but I _like them_."

The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop herself. They spilled past her lips and onto the cement floor of the hospital's parking lot. A silence filled the air, in which the late summer air blew Kim's blonde curls across her shoulders and the words stayed spilled on the floor for a bit, until Kim's mother decided to brush them off.

The woman sighed and rolled her eyes, "Oh, Kim."

She said nothing as she unlocked the car door, though after five minutes of silence (Kim knew that the car ride would take them fifteen minutes to get from the hospital to her home), Kim's mother began talking.

She rambled on and on about how school would be starting in around two days and how Kim needed to buy this year's school supplies, how Kim's father had been worried sick on the plane ride, how she was very excited for Kim to be going into the eleventh grade and finally, by the time they were home, how she was glad that Kim was ok.

_She was glad that she was ok._

As she leaned her head against the cold glass, those simple words made her smile _internally_, but _not_ externally.

The whole Crawford family was waiting for Kim when she got home; Aunt Patricia (from her mother's side) her cousins Alex and Freddy, Uncle John, and finally, her Grandmother (who had come all the way from San Bernardino County).

They met her with warm smiles, tight hugs and wet kisses. Thank yous to God who (according to her Grandmother) had saved her life and eyes that tried to avoid her fresh bandages on her wrists.

They had dinner and watched a movie, and everything was nice, though, if it were not for the emptiness in her heart, Kim would almost feel happy. Because the emptiness in her heart was something she had been feeling since she woke up and Jerry was in her room: Jack.

Jack and the fact that he was gone.

It felt like a pain, a wound, she could not treat.

It hurt her like when Mom had insulted Milton's bouquet of forget-me-nots. Or actually, it hurt her more than that. It hurt as much as when she had cut her wrists on the glass from Rudy's old car, except for the fact that this time, the wound felt although it would not heal.

It throbbed and pained, and it made her want to curl up into a ball and cry. It made her want to have someone hug her and hold her.

Someone like Jerry.

Though, she did not cry in front of her family.

When they told her they were sorry, that they wished that it would have never happened, that the best people felt the most pain and etcetera, she forced on a smile and said that she was "ok" or nodded and simply looked at the floor or trace her fingers on the bandages on her wrists.

Kim made up a façade, a mask, to wear when her family was home. She used it to hide her emotions and seem tall and strong, though at the moment, she felt small and weak.

When her family said goodbye at the end of the night, they hugged and wished her a good first day of eleventh grade (as they would not see her on the exact day of the first day of school, so they decided to wish her good luck when they could) and Kim thanked them and walked them out.

She took a vase upstairs into her room, filled it with water and placed Milton's bouquet of forget-me-nots inside. She placed the vase on her large windowsill, and sat there for a moment, in the dark, listening to the sounds of the night.

Her hair was done up in a messy bun, she wore her pajamas and had no makeup on (not that she wore much to begin with on a regular day). Her curtains were pushed back, her head resting against the wall, her toes nearly touching the wall opposite her. The sky was dark and the moon shone its creamy light through her bedroom window, illuminating her face in its cool light.

* * *

_Days Without Contact: __**3**_

Kim listened to the sound of her alarm clock on her bedside table, counting the chimes until they ended.

They had ended at twelve.

Midnight.

Another day to add to her list.

And then it hit her, _her list_.

Where would she keep track? She was bound to lose count if she kept the numbers inside her head; so naturally, she needed a place to make sure she did not forget?

But _where_?

Kim's eyes had long ago adjusted to the dark, so they scanned her room with ease, until they found someplace suitable to keep track of the "days without contact".

A box.

It was a simple wooden chest, really.

A long time ago, when Kim was a child, she had kept her toys inside, though as she grew, her collection of toys grew smaller and smaller, until she no longer wanted any. Still, she kept the chest, and only now, had she found its use.

Kim slipped off her windowsill, and to the bottom shelf of her bookshelf, to pull out the chest. She did, and it was heavy and firm in her hands.

Kim placed it on the ground, and ran to her bedside table to turn on her lamp.

She would need light for what was coming next.

The lamp's light cast a golden hue to all the objects in Kim's small room as she continued to search through her room. When she found what she was looking for, she felt quite satisfied that she had managed to find it. It was her old art kit.

Kim had not used it in years, for after joining Bobbi Wasabi, she had given up on art to make time for karate (which the woman in her family kept making jokes about, much to her great dislike). When she opened the kit, Kim searched through the many things inside; brushes, oil pastels, water pastels, water color paint, oil paint, crayons, chalk, sandpaper, an eraser, a sharpener and finally, wrapped up in a frayed blue cloth, her artist pallet knives.

Kim selected the knife that looked the sharpest, and examined it in the golden glow of her lamp, studying her fuzzy reflection in the silver metal. Kim grabbed the small wooden chest in one hand and the pallet knife in the other and sat down, crossed-legged on the floor.

Her palms grew sweaty and sticky as she pressed the knife to the chest, scratching it a group of symbols. It took Kim quite a while to finish up her work (due to the fact that the knife, even though the sharpest in her art kit, was not truly _that_ sharp when compared to a kitchen knife) but when it was done, she felt oddly satisfied.

On the chest were a handful of symbols, a group of scratches, a fistful of words:

"DAYS WITHOUT CONTACT" Kim had scratched in, her letters all capitalized and messy.

Below were three scratches close to each other; they symbolized the days since Jack's heart had stopped.

Since he had died.

She had not noticed that she had been crying until she tasted salt water. Tears.

"God," Kim hissed in the empty room, blinking furiously. She wiped underneath her eyes and bit her tongue, "get a grip, Kim."

Though, that did not help.

Once she started thinking about it, she could not stop. She tried her strongest to stay quiet, so that she would not wake up her parents. She covered her mouth and her eyes scrunched up as her tears kept flowing.

Tears.

So many tears.

_So many fucking tears._

She said that last bit aloud, unintentionally.

Two hours later, at two o'clock in the morning, she realized that she had been crying on and off, since she had created "her box".

She also realized that she needed to talk to someone.

The urge to run into her parent's room and start crying was very tempting, like a gnawing hunger in her stomach that demanded to be fixed with food, she wanted to do it. Really, she did.

But she did not.

What stopped her was how she knew her mother would react.

If anything, Kim had learnt from sixteen years of experience that her mother was … _specific_. Or that was the nice way to say it, at least. Kim knew that if she told her mother what she was going through, her mother would make it into a big deal. She would suggest therapy, she would suggest prescription medication, she would suggest for Kim to make new friends.

For Kim to move.

And Kim wanted none of those things.

So she did not tell her parents, especially not her mother.

So, Kim set her box down on the floor and with trembling hands and moist cheeks, she reached for the phone that lay on the third shelf of her bookshelf.

She dialed a number.

A number she knew well, but had never used, for she was not sure what to say if his mother picked up the phone. He made her sound very kind, but there were always those nerves she felt since she had never met the woman in person.

Kim sat there, in the center of her room; the supplies from her art kit spilled across the glossy hardwood floor, the lamp giving off an eerie glow, the pale creamy moonlight streaming through her window, Milton's flowers standing still in their vase, the bandages clinging to her wrists, wood shavings on the floor and her her voice, quiet, praying that he would pick up.

She needed him to pick up.

She knew that it was early, but she felt that she would do something very stupid that she would end up regretting if she did not hear his voice, if she did not have a voice of reason in her life.

Seconds passed at the speed that they had when she was underwater, but finally, he answered.

"Hello?"

His voice was heavy and thick with sleep. He had probably been sleeping before she had called him.

She did not realize that she had been holding her breath until she noticed that her chest hurt.

"Hello?" he said again.

This time, his words were less tired, more awake. They shook her out of her state of shock.

"J-Jerry?"

"Kim?"

"H-hey."

Kim heard him speak something in Spanish, though she had not the willpower or the education to understand what he had just said.

"Listen," Jerry said, now speaking English, "Kim, are you ok? Why'd you call me? _Chica_, is everything alright?"

The first thing she said to him was not an answer to his question, but a question meant for him:

"How does it feel?"

And Jerry did not need an explanation for what she had just said, because he understood completely – how was he handling the after math of Jack's death?

"It hurts, _chica_," he said with all honesty, "It really hurts."

Kim nodded even though she knew that he could not see her.

And then broke.

Kim began crying again, and she told him everything that had happened so far. About the box, about the vase and Milton's flowers, about how she was scared to tell her parents, about how she felt her family watching her scars, about how dinner had made her feel empty and sad, how she had been crying for hours and, most importantly, about how she was very grateful that he had picked up, since that had stopped her thoughts about suicide for the time.

And when it was over, when Kim had calmed down, Jerry's voice was calm and soft, like rain in the summer, "Do you want to talk about it tomorrow at lunch? It's the first day of school, I know, but do you want to still hang out?"

"_Yes_. Yes, let's go to lunch."

"Ok."

There was a silence on both ends.

And then someone calling Jerry in the background.

"My sister's calling me," Jerry said, "I got to go, Kim."

"Oh, ok," Kim said, "Goodnight, Jerry."

His voice was kind and she heard him yawn before he spoke.

"Night, Kim."

How does it feel? - She had asked.

It hurts, it really hurts – he had responded.

And she had to agree with Jerry, because how it felt, was that it "really hurt".


	3. Chapter 3

_Fandom:_ **Kickin' It**

_Pairing:_ **Jerry and Kim**

**Written by krstic**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kickin' It; all rights belong to their respectful owners. I make no money out of this, as this simply fan-made.**

_Author's Note:_** Thank you so much for everyone who reviewed on my story! This really means a lot, and inspires me to continue! This chapter is not really all that sad as the previous ones, though I intend on Kim's "letting go" of what happened and "moving on" to take it's time, only because I'm trying to make this as realistic as possible (even if it has to enter the "tragic" phase of life). Hope you guys like this chapter (special thanks to my Beta-Reader, MirandNack)! Read and review, please**.

* * *

**Chapter Three:**

What She Did Was Think

When she woke up, she found her school supplies left on her desk, along with her school bag and ten dollars for lunch money. She knew it was her father who had done so, because her mother always left home early in the morning to go to work. She worked as a journalist, while Kim's father was a banker at Seaford's bank.

Now, you'd think that when Kim's mother went on business trips that Kim's father would stay in Seaford because it did not concern him, but he went with his wife. He wanted to make sure that she was alright when out of town (or out of state), and she did not object.

Kim quickly got dressed. Though, when she looked in the mirror, she noticed her bandages.

They were in full view in her short sleeve shirt and not that clean. She sighed as she went to the bathroom to change her old bandages for new ones. When Kim removed her old bandages, she saw her scars for the first time.

They were not too pretty.

Most of them were rather thin and messy, while there were some that were deep and short.

There were many of them.

So many.

_God, so many._

She said that last part aloud, as she wrapped new bandages on her wrists.

When it was done, Kim rushed back into her room and changed from her short sleeve shirt to a light long sleeved shirt. Not because it was cool outside, but because she was not sure what everyone would think when they saw her walk through Seaford High's hallways with thick bandages on her wrists.

She packed her bag and shoved her lunch money inside her pocket before heading downstairs for some breakfast.

* * *

The ride on the school bus was possibly the worst Kim had ever experienced.

Whispers.

They whispered about her amongst themselves, though she said nothing.

"Did you hear what happened?"

"… Why's she wearing a long-sleeve?"

"She was in a car accident."

"-Probably cuts..."

"Her boyfriend died."

"… _She_ had a boyfriend?"

"What was his name again?"

She said nothing until one of them, a girl, brought up Jack.

"His name was Jack."

It was a simple sentence really, but it was enough to have the whispering end.

* * *

Kim remembered the first part of the first day of school rather well, lunch included. Though the rest of the day was a blur to her. It was a collection of getting all sorts of looks from her classmates, going to the same locker she had the previous year and dumping her stuff inside before snatching her binder and other supplies along with her school schedule and going to Homeroom.

In her homeroom class, there were not many people that she knew, but the people that she did know were two boys. One had dark skin, a round face, and was short for his age while the other was gangly with red hair and freckles that dotted across his nose and cheeks.

Eddie and Milton.

Once they spotted her, standing at the doorway, Milton nudged Eddie, both of them waved at her and gave her smiles that actually managed to make a small light of happiness appear inside of her. A spark. Small, but considering what had just happened, size no longer mattered.

A small smile formed on her lips and she gave them a small wave back.

She mouthed the words, "Where's Jerry?" and Eddie mouthed back "Squires".

Milton motioned for her to come sit with them, as the seats they had now would be the seats they would have for the rest of the semester, and he was hoping to sit with two of his friends, and just as she made her way to the two boys, someone called out her name. They were both female voices.

"Kim!"

"Kim! Kim, _honey_, come sit with us!"

The first person had been Grace.

The second person had been Donna.

Kim glanced from Grace and Donna to Milton and Eddie, not sure where to go. She looked at Milton for some sort of advice, and he gave her a small smile and nodded for her to go sit with the two girls.

Kim gave Milton a smile that said "Thank you" and took a seat next to Grace and Donna.

When it came to girls, Kim had never truly been that close to them. That did not mean that she did not enjoy their company, it simply meant that she preferred the company of boys.

Kim had spoken to Grace here and there, but apparently Grace considered her some sort of friend because she had called her over to sit with her.

"Is it true what happened over the past few days?" Grace asked, her face full of worry. Though, it was a bit difficult to see due to all of her concealer.

"Yeah."

"Oh, my God!" Donna exclaimed in her breathy voice, putting down the lip-gloss she had been applying to turn to Kim, "_Oh my God_ you _poor thing_! Oh _Kim_!"

Kim had never once spoken to Donna. She had seen Donna around school, in the hallways, cheerleading at football games (occasionally with Grace), but never had they actually talked. Until now.

Donna pulled Kim into a firm hug that felt nice, but smelt a bit too much like perfume. It made Kim feel odd, quite frankly- most likely since Kim had never truly been close with either of these girls, and yet now they seemed to want to get close.

Maybe it was because someone had just died, and that this was Donna and Grace's way of showing kindness and empathy.

Either way, Kim chose to accept their kindness.

"Thanks," Kim said as Donna pulled away.

Donna wiped at her eyes, though Kim saw no _actual_ tears.

"Oh it's nothing, hun," Donna replied, "Hugs are a girl's best friend."

Their homeroom teacher, Mr. Daniels, walked in, and the class quieted down as he read the attendance.

* * *

Midway through their first period, homeroom, there was an announcement on the school's loudspeaker. The message came in, spoken in the dull monotone voice of their principal, Mr. Fienders:

"Students, I have some unfortunate news to tell you."

There was a silence, as this had never happened – Mr. Fienders' dull monotone voice, had changed, it now showed emotion; sadness and uncertainty.

As soon as Kim realized this, she felt her heartbeat quicken and she swore that she could still hear the machines beeping as they measured her heart rate and breathing pattern. Then, she heard nothing but static, the machines gone. That morphed in a matter of seconds to the sound of a heavy object colliding against a large body of water.

As quickly as the noises started, they ended. They stopped. They stopped, just as Mr. Fienders' gave all of Seaford High his big news:

"I regret to have to tell you this, but the rumors that have been swarming around Seaford for these past days are true. Our fellow student, Jack Brewer has passed away."

She shot out of her chair, as straight as a bullet leaving its gun and as loud as a pistol going off. Her chair tipped backwards and fell with a loud clatter against the tiled floor.

"Kim?" Mr. Daniels's inquired, noticing the blonde suddenly stand up.

"I-I need to go to the b-bathroom," Kim blurted out pathetically.

"There is an announce-"

"_Please._"

She was as white as a sheet, her hands were shaking and her fingers twitched at her sides. He sighed, yet nodded, saying "The hall pass is next to the door", but by then Kim had already left the room.

She ran through the halls she knew so well, passing colorful pictures on the wall with smiling faces.

But she did not want to smile, nor did she want to cry.

All she wanted to do was find a place where she could be alone and in silence.

Or at least find something to do to let her emotions out.

_Out._

"Students, we will be holding-"

_Out._

"-an assembly this Thursday to honor-"

_Out._

"- this terrible, dreadful loss."

And then it hit her, literally.

Kim had been in such a hurry, that she had not even realized that the door nearest to her had opened and someone had stepped out. Two bodies smashed against one another and landed on the floor.

"Sorry." They both said in unison. Her voice was cracked and her throat ached, yet no tears left her eyes. His voice was deep yet quiet.

"Kim?"

She looked up at the figure that was already standing up.

"H-hey."

He helped her up and she brushed the dirt off of her clothes in an instant. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could even form his words, she had turned on her heel and was walking as fast as she could away from him.

_'Gotta get to the bathroom,'_ Kim thought

She could see the door.

But the thing that stopped her was delicate yet intense at the same time. Fingers, fingers reached out and fell into contact with hers.

"Yo," he said, "Yo, Kim. Tell me what's wrong, _chica_."

Her head whipped around, and she looked at him. For a second, she could not breath and then the next she was breathing too quickly.

He thought she was going to burst into tears like she had at the hospital and on the phone.

And she thought so too, yet still, no tears came.

Her face changed from a confused look, to sad, to raw and vile pain.

"What happened, Kim?"

It was both concerned and urgent. It was odd, yet he felt he needed to know. He felt that although he was having trouble understanding her now, and he needed her to explain it to him.

Or maybe he had a boring and plain way of thinking and she was too complex for him to understand.

She looked down at his shoes, then back to his face.

She bit her lip and managed to choke out one word:

"Announcements."

She felt her throat and chest constrict, she heard her ears ringing and all that came out instead of tears, were dry sobs.

Arms reached out, and she threw herself against his shoulder. They wrapped her up, like a warm blanket, and held her close. She buried her nails into his back, closing her eyes and taking in his scent, – the smell of stubble cologne and then his own personal scent – burying her face into the maroon colored material of his tee-shirt.

"Jerry."

She whispered his name against his firm and tall body, and the way she said his name made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

They stood there, in the center of a currently abandoned hallway, holding each other close. The girl, petite with long blonde curls and brown eyes that held only sadness for the past few days, wearing a dark blue long-sleeved shirt to hide her scars. The boy, tall with broad shoulders and brown eyes that carried an odd hollow feeling that he did not enjoy, messy short black curls that his father had once had and his own bad-boy-meets-hipster style. The two of them.

They made an odd pair, quite a scene, yet no one was there to see them (since it was still only first period and people were still in class). Though, even if someone had seen them, they would only assume that these two knew the late Jack Brewer by their body language.

Which, they very well did.

* * *

Kim came back to class at the end of first period.

Mr. Daniels's said nothing, which was odd, because Kim had expected him to at least say _something_, but that did not happen. Kim picked up her things, and made her way to second period.

She checked her schedule; math.

Donna and Grace both gave her sweet smiles and nice goodbyes, saying that they would probably see her for fourth period ("Home EC", according to the schedule).

Kim picked up her binder and exited the class, followed closely behind by Milton, who would apparently be part of "Grade 11 Math Class".

"Hey." He greeted, his bright blue eyes searching hers for some sort of answer as to why she had abruptly left Homeroom.

They found that she would probably text him about it after school.

"Hey," she replied, her smile was both sad and happy at the same time, and this gave Milton some sort of odd reassurance that his friend was okay.

And because she was okay, he was okay.

* * *

Second and third went by rather quickly, math and biology.

Milton did very well in both though, getting nearly every question right on Mrs. Chardle's oral math test and being the first student in his class to complete the "Grade 11: Introduction to Biology" in Mrs. Smith's class.

Then came Home EC.

It was a class Kim might not have been the best in. She was good in Gym, Biology and Math. She was alright in Social Studies, Pottery, Chemistry and English. Though, the only classes she was bad in were Drama and Dance and Home EC. She was bad at Drama and Dance because her dancing skills were atrocious, while she was bad in Home EC because whenever she tried cooking, it never really went her way (in other words, her food always managed to somehow come out wrong).

It was fourth period when Kim said goodbye to Milton, who (with a rather disgusted face) was off to Gym class, and met up with Eddie.

"Hey, Eddie." She smiled.

Eddie smiled back, "Hey."

He frowned when he saw that she looked better then she had a few hours ago, "You look better. What happened?"

For a second, there was a slight feeling of worry inside Kim. Should she tell Eddie that Jerry had practically had to hold her so she would remain "stable" after the announcements? The moment had felt … _intimate_ and _special,_ therefore Kim was not sure if Jerry wanted her to share it with other people.

Or if _she _wanted to share it to begin with.

All she said before entering Mr. Pedaska's room was:

"Hugs are a girl's best friend, Eddie."

* * *

"Students," Mr. Pedaska said in his gravelly voice, "Today, I expect you all to bake chocolate chip cupcakes."

Kim sighed internally.

"Now, you've all made it this far – Grade Eleven! Therefore I don't expect any screw ups. Got it?"

"Yes, Mr. Pedaska," everyone replied.

"Now," Mr. Pedaska said, smiling and rubbing his hands together, "I want you all to partner up, and get started! Go!"

People began moving around, searching for their other half that would help them through the assignment.

"Remember," Mr. Pedaska shouted over the noise, "This assignment will help me get an idea of how good – or how bad – you guys really are!"

"Kim!" someone shouted

Kim's head whipped around, searching for the sound of the voice

"Kim!"

A head bobbed up above the crowd. A girl's head, with straight brown hair and bright green eyes, "Kim!" she shouted, "Over here!"

Kim left her table and followed the crowd of people until she reached the girl, Grace. Grace gave her smile, and motioned for her to sit at her table.

"Wanna be partners?" Grace asked.

"Sure," Kim replied, "though, I thought that you and Donna would want to be partners?"

"Oh, no," Grace said, as she applied some lip-gloss, "She's partners with Heather Clarke."

"Oh, okay."

"Hey Kim," Grace asked, as she pulled her binder out and removed a small mirror from the front pocket and began examining herself, "you any good at baking?"

"Not really," Kim said sheepishly.

"Well I'm," – Grace leaned in and said the following three words rather loudly- "_great at baking_," – her voice then going back to its normal level, "so this will be fun!"

Some heads turned around to look at Grace, but she paid attention to only one. Her head turned around and she winked at the boy behind them, "You see him?" Grace smirked when she had turned back to face Kim.

"Who?" Kim asked, turning around to look at the boys behind her who had already laid out their supplies. All she saw were Jerry and Randy Plotski. "Randy?"

"No!" Grace exclaimed as she bent down lay out the supplies that was on the bench underneath their table, "Jerry!"

Kim frowned, "Jerry?"

"Yes, silly," Grace said as she gave Kim a playful hit on the arm, "I winked at him and he smiled at me! Do you even _know_ what that means?"

Deep down, Kim understood what that meant, after all that was how her relationship with Jack had been – a sort of "skinny love". Yet, the fact that Jerry and Grace … it just seemed too odd to function.

"Yeah," Kim replied as Grace handed her the flour to pour into the mixer's bowl, "I know what that means."

"Good," Grace gushed, "Well either way, it means that he thinks I'm hot and I think he is too."

"Do you think you'll date?"

The words slipped out of Kim's mouth, before she could think them through. They wobbled and stumbled into a clumsy heap on the table that they shared, staying there, unmoving and possibly unwanted.

If words and sentences could be seen by the human eye, then Grace had already eyed the pile on the table. Her brown eyebrows knitted together for a moment, as she thought of how to reply. They separated and so did the invisible words and sentences as she burst out laughing.

"Oh course we will, Kimmy," she giggled, "I – along with Donna, of course – always do!"

Kim forced a thin lipped smile, as she cracked the eggs and poured in the milk and Grace added the chocolate chips. She was not that fond of her new nickname, "Kimmy", and the fact that Grace was positive that both she and Donna could get any boy they pleased, bothered her a bit.

She said nothing.

She wanted to make female friends, so keeping her opinion to herself would probably be the best way to do so.

* * *

When the bell rang, signaling the end of Home EC and the start of lunch, Kim and Grace's chocolate chip cookies had been completed and (due to Grace and her good baking skills) they had passed with an A on their assignment.

"I'm going to lunch with Donna, Kim," Grace said as they left Mr. Pedaska's class and headed for their lockers, "We're going to that new sushi place about a block away. Wanna come too?"

The offer was tempting, as it was a chance to get to know Donna and Grace better, but Kim rejected, "Sorry, I already have plans."

"Oh, ok," Grace chirped, "Maybe later this week?"

"For sure." She smiled.

"'K," Grace replied, as she fixed her ponytail, "Later, Kim!"

"Bye!"

When Kim reached her locker, most of the students were already heading out for lunch. She did her combination, and placed her binder and other books onto her top shelf. Kim pulled out her lunch money from her short's pocket and closed her locker, only to find Jerry waiting for her.

"Yo, _chica_," he smirked when he saw the slight shock of seeing him pop-up at her locker

Kim hit his shoulder, "God, Jerry. Don't _scare _me that way."

He smiled as they began walking towards the school's exit, "I _scared_ you?"

"Yes."

They exchanged looks, before she gave a small smile, "Very funny, _Martinez_."

"It is, isn't it, _Doll_?"

* * *

They had gone to the pizza place near school for lunch, and it had been nice.

For a while, Kim managed to forget the emptiness and sadness she had been feeling for three days, until the walk back to school.

They had begun to talk about homework, and that had been fine, but when the conversation turned to this morning's announcements, she quieted down.

Jerry, really, was not sure what to say.

If anything, they had both sort of gone quiet once that topic had been brought up, though Kim ended up breaking the silence, "Thanks for what you did, Jerry."

"No problem," he replied.

"I-it," she felt her heart beat quicken, though attempted to ignore it, "really means a lot."

"It's what friends are for, Kim. I mean, like, you would do it for me, do it for Milton, do it for Eddie. And I would too."

"Yeah, I know."

"Hey," he said, giving her a sad smile, "I'll be at the assembly if you need another one."

A smile tugged at her lips, "Thank you."

He opened the door and held it open for her, before replying, "_No problema_. No problem."

* * *

Fifth, sixth and seventh periods included Gym, Pottery and Chemistry, respectively. Those three period went by, with Kim passing them rather well, speaking mainly to Eddie (in Pottery and Chemistry) and Donna (in Gym).

One thing she noticed though, was that Grace was giving her odds looks through Chemistry class.

She was very interested in the small assignment they had been doing in Chemistry and talking to Eddie, so she had not asked Grace what was wrong (and she had not been able to do so in History or Gym because they were not in the same class).

When eighth period came, the final period of the day, Kim had possibly the most boring class: Social Studies.

Their teacher, Mrs. Karrol, had given them the task of simply reading through their textbooks from pages 24 to 29, so the class was split into two groups of people. People like Milton and Kim who were trying to do work, and people like Grace who were not doing the reading.

Fifteen minutes into class, Grace approached Kim.

"Kim," she said, "Kimmy."

Her cold as ice.

Kim looked up from page 27, and turned to Grace, "Yeah?"

"Kim," Grace said, giving Kim a smile that appeared sweet at first, but ended up being rather bitter when you paid attention, "Kim, I heard you went on a _date_ with _Jerry_ today."

"A date?"

"_Yes_," Grace said her tone still icy and cold, "_why_ would you do that?"

"Who told you I went on a date with Jerry?" Kim asked.

_'We never went on a date',_ Kim thought.

"Randy," Grace replied sharply. Her bright green eyes fell on the chair next to Kim, which Milton was sitting in, "Move it, _nerd_," she snarled at the boy.

Kim was about to say something when Milton looked up at Grace. If looks could kill, Milton might have been dead. He did not seem scared when he spoke, he just seemed annoyed that he was still branded with the term "nerd".

"Sure thing," he replied, his tone as cold as Grace's. Milton picking up his things and moved to the empty seat near Jerry, at the table opposite Kim's.

Kim noticed Jerry and Milton start talking about geography, so she turned her attention back to Grace.

Grace had, by now, taken Milton's former spot, and was expecting a good answer to her question:

"Did you two go on a date or not?"

"No," Kim said, shaking her head, "we went out for pizza, because we're friends. We had to talk about-"

And in that moment, Kim was cut off by Grace snatching her left wrist and pointing to the piece of beige material underneath her blue long-sleeved shirt.

"What's this?" Grace hissed.

_'Oh no,'_ Kim thought, _'my scars.'_

"It's nothing," she said quickly, trying to free her wrist from Grace's grip. Grace would not let go, though. She pulled Kim's hand underneath the table, out of view from their classmates, and rolled up Kim's sleeve.

Upon seeing Kim's bandages, Grace's expression and voice changed from cold and icy like, to warm and concerned, "_Oh my God, Kim,_" she gasped, "Kim, _Kim_, do you _cut_?"

"_No_-" Kim began.

"Oh _sweetie,_" Grace exclaimed, pulling Kim into an unexpected tight hug. Kim accepted it though, "Sweetie, was _this_ why you and Jerry went out for lunch today? Are you guy's good friends and needed to talk about your little problem?"

Kim pulled away, covering up her bandages, "Grace," she said as calmly as she could, "_Grace_, _I am_ good friends with Jerry, you're right. But I,"- Kim leaned in to whisper the last part of her sentence-"_do not cut_, understand?"

Grace nodded and Kim sighed.

She would have to explain things to Grace now.

And she did. Kim told Grace all about the car accident and the glass cutting her wrists, though she cut out nearly everything from her hospital experience, saying that her parents told her about Jack's death and leaving out her the part about her box and the phone call she had with Jerry along with the breakdown completely.

Quite frankly, the story made Kim seem like a car accident survivor who was relatively fine and Grace bought it.

When school was over, Kim took the bus home and (after dinner) went to her room.

She did not cry, or have any breakdown what so ever.

What she did was think.

Think about what she had told Grace and what she was at the moment.

The story was mainly a lie, because she had cut several things out, but also because she had not told the truth about her true, current state of mind.

Kim felt that she was not classified as "traumatized" or having a "post-traumatic stress disorder" issue, she felt that she just had an odd, and difficult, time of letting go what had happened.

And really, considering the events, that made sense, didn't it?


	4. Chapter 4

_Fandom:_** Kickin' It**

_Pairing:_** Jerry and Kim**

**Written by krstic**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kickin' It; all rights belong to their respectful owners. I make no money out of this, as this simply fan-made.**

_Author's Note: _**Special thank you to my Beta-Reader, MirandNack! Sorry this chapter took so long, guys. I've been really busy lately because of schoolwork and because I've had to create my portfolio for an art school that I'm applying to, but (as you can see haha) I managed to squeeze in some time for my fanfiction. Either way, I hope you like this chapter- Read and Reviews are always appreciated.**

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

Discovery

_Days Without Contact:_ _**5**_

The eyes that bore into her began on the school bus. At the same time it did every morning, the Seaford High school bus arrived at the corner of her block.

Just like she had yesterday, she wore a long-sleeved shirt. This one was of a different design, but it covered her wrists, which was important. Her blonde hair tied up into a ponytail, her school bag slung across her shoulder, she greeted the bus driver and took a seat.

Nobody sat with her for a few stops.

The person who did was a gangly boy with freckles, bright blue eyes and red hair.

"Hi, Milton," she said when she saw him walk down the aisle. She moved her bag off the seat next to hers, inviting him to join her.

"Hello, Kim," he mumbled, as he sat down.

She noticed the way his shoulders slumped, the bags under his eyes that held an ugly gray tint, the way his red hair stuck up at odd angles and how the collar of his shirt was rather ruffled.

Never before had Kim seen Milton like this, not even when there was a project due and he had been up all night working on it. That being said, when he sat down next to her, resting his head in his hands, Kim knew that something was wrong.

"Milton?" Kim asked tentatively as she cocked her head sideways to get a better view of his face. "Milton, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Milton sighed as he straightened up and ran his hands through his hair, "I'm just… _tired._"

"No, you're not," she said gently, reaching her hands out to offer to fix his ruffled shirt collar.

He let her do so. Her hands were gentle as they fixed what he had not cared to do. They were cool when they accidentally touched his neck. They left his flesh tingling when they left.

"Thanks," he said going to run a hand through his hair, but Kim swatted his hands away

He frowned when she did so. "What?"

"Leave it," she said with the smallest smirk, "It doesn't look that bad."

He rolled his eyes at her, and shoved his back under his seat as the bus began to move again, off to pick up the next Seaford High student. He fixed his hair, even though she had told him not to.

"So what happened, Milton?"

He sighed and decided it was best to tell her. "Julie and I got into a bit of a debate, last night-"

"A debate?"

"Ok, well, a _heated debate_."

Kim gave him a look that said that it must have been more than a "heated debate".

"Alright, fine. We got into an argument."

Kim frowned, "About what?"

The bus shifted and stopped, as Randy and Eddie climbed on.

"Hey Milton, Kim!" Eddie called out as he passed them.

Kim waved and Milton gave a thin lipped smile before continuing.

"Ok, well, we were texting and she told me to meet her outside of her house. I did, walked there and everything. I even put a suit on."

"Why?"

"Well, we had been talking about what we were relationship wise, so I assumed she wanted me to ask her out, so I put a suit on. Gotta look classy."

Kim snorted and Milton ignored her.

"Anyways, so when I got there, she wasn't dressed fancy – which disappointed me a bit, but I said nothing- and she said '_Milton, we need to talk about what we are'_ and I blurted out that I thought she was really pretty and she was about to say something, but I cut her off-"

"Milton," Kim said slowly.

Milton turned to her, "Yeah?"

"When you're talking about relationships with someone who could possibly be your partner later in life, you _don't_ cut them off."

"I regretted it later." And Milton looked genuinely guilty as he said that.

"Ok."

There was a small silence as the bus drove on.

"So what did you say?" Kim asked, breaking the silence

Milton scratched the back of his neck, as he replied, "Asked her to go out with me."

Kim gave a small smile, "And what did she say?"

"She said that that was what she wanted to talk to me about. That she has a crush on me in July, but she found someone better."

Her smile died off at his words.

His hands were clenched into fists and his face had gone all red. Kim eyed Milton, unsure of how to react to his anger. She licked her lips and said nothing except "I'm really sorry to hear that, Milton."

Bright blue eyes, the color of the sky on a cloudless summer's day, turned to the petite blonde. He pursed his lips and unclenched his hands, running them across the navy material of his seat, feeling his anger towards Julie simmer down.

"Sorry for getting all… angry. It's just, we dated before and then when we broke things off, it wasn't that bad, because it was a mutual breakup. Then, I began liking her again, and when once I develop the courage to ask her out again – she rejects me!"

Kim gave a sad smile, "Hey, its ok Milton. Think of this way, you can find the _right_ person now."

The school bus came to a stop at Seaford High, and the yellow doors opened. Kim reached down and picked up her school bag as students began exiting the bus.

"What if she _was_ the right person?"

"If she was, then why would she not want you?"

Milton thought this through, as they made their way off the bus and inside school. When they were halfway to their lockers, the anger had left him entirely and Kim's words made sense.

"Thanks for the advice," Milton smiled as they reached their lockers.

"No problem," Kim said as she took out her books and binder and placed her bag inside her locker.

"Hey guys," Eddie said, coming up behind the two friends, "You guys seen Jerry?"

They both shook their heads.

"He gets on before me, since he lives farther," Kim said, "so I see him already on the bus when I get there. But…"

Thinking back to this morning's bus ride, Kim could not remember seeing Jerry there.

"I didn't see him this morning," she finished.

"Me either," Milton said, "Let me know if you see him later."

"Ok," Eddie said, as he turned to leave, "See you later!"

"Bye!" said the gangly red haired boy and the petite blonde in unison. Kim acted as if it was nothing, because those things happened sometimes, though Milton on the other hand, had bright pink cheeks.

* * *

She did not see Jerry until fourth period.

He came rushing into Gym class, his face red and his breaths short and rapid. She had been practicing her serving in badminton with Donna when this occurred.

Her head turned around, and she saw Jerry standing there, at the doorway, clutching his side. Their eyes locked and she gave him a small smile. Donna paid no attention to any of this, as she was busy making sure her nail polish had not chipped.

Jerry's eyes travelled down to her wrists, to see she was still wearing a long sleeve.

She noticed he was looking, and turned away from him, so she could avoid the words that his eyes screamed:

_'They're from survival.'_

* * *

She went to lunch with Donna and Grace, and they told her all about these clothing stores at Bay View Mall where they could find very nice things to wear for the Halloween Dance.

"It's a bit early to go shopping, isn't it?" Kim asked.

"Oh no," Donna said, "This time is the best. The earlier you go is great."

"Just not too early, though," Grace chimed in.

"Yeah," Donna continued, "Too early and you get all of last season's dresses. Too late and you get the dresses made for fat girls. Just right, and you get dresses at good prices with even better designs."

"Really?"

"Oh course, Kimmy!" Grace giggled.

"You'll look beautiful in no matter what though," Donna said, turning to give Kim a small wink, "blondes wear it all better."

Grace frowned slightly, "Brunettes can too."

Donna, who was a platinum blonde (she dyed her hair, and that look suited her surprisingly well), turned to Grace and gave her a smile. The smile appeared sweet at first glance, yet was actually quite sour when you took a closer look, "Whatever helps you sleep at night, hun."

* * *

When she got home, she ate dinner and did her homework. After that was done, she went upstairs and did her fifth scratch into her box.

With every scratch she did, her heart hurt.

Yet she told no one.

* * *

At nine o'clock, she took out her phone and texted Milton.

_"Milton?"_

She sat on her windowsill, eyeing his forget-me-nots that had begun to wilt yesterday. Her phone buzzed, and she checked her messages:

_"Milton: 1 new message: 'Hey, Kim.'"_

He texted her again, as she clicked onto her 'reply' box, _"Want to finally text me about what happened at school?"_

She closed her eyes, remembering the events in a flash before replying, _"Sure"_

Her fingers moved rapidly as she pressed on the letters on her phone. Words, sentences, they came out of her head and onto the small electronic in her hands in a short period of time. She told Milton about her breakdown and why she believed it had happened (_"I feel like shit, Milton. When the announcements came on, I had a ... panic attack"_). She also decided to tell him about her scars, as he deserved to know, he was one of her closest friends.

He replied to her scars, saying: _"You can cover them with some makeup, I think? That's what my cousin Suzy told me. If not, I heard that there's creams you can buy that made them fade away."_

She replied,_ "Ok."_

And he asked,_ "Does Jerry know?"_

_"He knows I have them, but hasn't seen them. No one has."_

_"Not even your parents?"_

_"No"_

There was a pause before Milton texted her back, and for a second, Kim felt a pang of nervousness inside of her; Milton might have left or told someone.

"Ok, Kim," she told herself, "stop thinking bullshit."

No one else, except for Jerry (because he had been the other half to the "hallway incident" – what she had grown to call their encounter), knew about their hug and why she had run out of class.

No wait.

Someone else _did_ know.

Grace.

Her phone buzzed, before Kim could start thinking about whether Grace was trustworthy and if Jerry had told anyone (for if he had, there was no reason why she should be as closed as she was towards to subject, since he had already told people)

Her phone buzzed in her hands, and it was Milton.

_"Milton: 1 new message: 'The thing about pain, Kim, is that it's a real bother. It pesters you, over and over again, until you feel awful. It's like some of the girls at our school really, because it does this, over and over, until it gets your attention. Pain is, in reality, an attention-seeker. Please, you're one of my best friends and I don't want it to take you down and take you away. Try to think ... happy thoughts.'"_

Kim replied: _"Thank you for the advice, Milton. I will."_

And Milton replied with a smiley face.

She set her phone down, and turned it off.

Honestly, she really did want to think happier, to pay attention to what Milton had just texted her and think positive, but it was all easier said than done.

She just felt so sad.

* * *

_Days Without Contact: _**_6_**

The assembly was after lunch, and what Kim remembered before entering the gym with the rest of her Period 5 class was texting Jerry (who was at the new sushi place, called "Bikkuri", with Eddie and Milton).

They had been messaging each other about what they thought the assembly would be like. Jerry hoped that it would be somewhat creative, though they both doubted that that would happen because Mr. Fiender's was possibly "the most un-creative person on the planet" (so to quote Jerry at one point in their conversation).

Then again, how could you make an assembly honoring someone who had died, creative?

Using bright colors and playing happy, up-beat music seemed like some sort of _insult_ to Kim in a way. Up-beat music with bright colors _did not_ mix with the fact that Jack Brewer had died in a car crash.

Using dark colors and playing sad music seemed… _appropriate_? Gloomy, yet appropriate considering it was about someone's death.

* * *

She sat by Grace and Donna, because they had insisted that she do so, therefore, she did not reject.

'_Think about making _girl_ friends, Kim,'_ she thought to herself, as the slideshow played on and as Mr. Fiender's gave a speech that Kim felt was absolute bullshit, since it was so poorly written.

There was a part of her, deep down, the part of that she felt was wilting like Milton's forget-me-nots, that wanted Mr. Fiender's to stop speaking in his dull monotone voice about a memorial honoring the departure of her boyfriend and tell the school the truth.

_Jack Brewer's gone and won't be coming back._

He's _dead_.

He _died_.

His heart _stopped working_.

He was on his way to a karate tournament because he was one of _the best Seaford had ever seen_, and did not deserve to go the way he did.

Hell, he did not deserve to go _at all_.

He did not have to be so selfless and _save her_.

He could have _left_ the car when he had a chance.

And yet he _stayed for her_.

Was she even _worth it_?

He could have _won_ that karate tournament.

He could have _started school_ with the rest of his friends.

He could have _finished high school_.

And none of this happened because of one person, _her_.

_Kim Crawford._

All her thoughts, her murky, black thoughts, clouded her mind.

Obscuring her light of happiness.

She did not stand up and leave the room.

She did not scream.

She did turn to Jerry, who had been carefully watching her (without her knowledge) in case she did want the hug he had offered her days ago.

What did happen was a single tear. It leaked out the corner of eye, and as soon as she felt it, she whipped it away.

"_No_," she thought, "_no, stop crying_."

And though she felt the urge to cry, she bit the inside of her cheek and did not shed another tear throughout the rest of the assembly.

* * *

After the assembly was done, Mr. Fiender's felt generous enough to give the school an "early break" and allow everyone to go home.

Of course, they all did.

As Kim was exiting the gym with Grace and Donna, she noticed a round, tall man standing near a man with light brown hair. She blinked a few times, before recognizing them.

The round man turned in her direction and his face lit up with a smile "Kim!"

The brown haired man turned her way as well and waved.

She soon noticed Eddie, Milton and Jerry were there as well.

Both Donna and Grace had turned to look at the figures that stood out in Seaford's gym.

"Who are _they_?" Grace said, her brown eyebrow's frowning at the two men

"_Honesty_, Grace," Donna said, turning to Grace. She sighed, before continuing, "They're …"

"_Bobbi Wasabi and Rudy Gillespie!_" Kim cried out.

"_Yeah_!" Donna exclaimed enthusiastically, before turning to Grace, "I really can't believe you didn't recognize them, Grace. They're, like, famous."

Grace looked sheepishly at the floor, and Donna gave an almost invisible smile, "I was only _joking_," she said, "No need to get _over-dramatic_."

"I'll, uhh, see you guys later," Kim replied quickly.

"'Kay" Grace said quietly.

"We'll see you later, Kimmy," Donna chirped, the two girls exited the gym.

Kim turned on her heel and ran through the crowd as fast as she could.

A grin grew on her face with every step.

And then, as she ran, she realized how weird it felt.

How weird it felt to smile.

It all felt rusty and stiff.

It felt almost … _unnatural_.

When she reached the group, her smile grew brighter. It still felt odd, but it grew none the less.

"Kim!" Bobbi Wasabi roared, before pulling her into a tight hug, "It's been so long since I've seen you!"

"Nice to see you again, Kim!" Rudy grinned.

Kim pulled away from the former karate star, and hugged her sensei as well.

"Nice to see you to, Rudy," she said.

"So," Bobbi said, as Kim pulled away. He had suddenly becoming rather serious, "Rudy and I came here to… er, well. I'm not sure how to phrase it."

"It's ok, Bobbi," Eddie spoke up, "I think we don't need words to understand the situation."

Kim stopped smiling, and turned to the floor, taking a deep breath and trying to not think about what that meant.

"Well, guys," Rudy said, "During the summer, Bobbi and I talked about what to get you guys since you'd all be starting Grade Eleven. And we decided on something a while back."

"Yo, man," Jerry said, "we don't need gifts - or at least I don't think I do – it's ok."

"No, no," Bobbi said, "I – or _we_ – insist."

Bobbi stepped aside to show a small bag on the floor. He bent down and picked up the bag, opening it to reveal its contents; five boxes.

He passed on out to the four teenagers in front of him, saying, "Go on, open it!"

Kim opened the box inside a gym that was otherwise empty except for the small group. Kim frowned slightly as she saw what was inside.

"A key?"

"What's it for?" Milton asked

Rudy was smiling broadly, "We got keys made for all of you. They're keys to the dojo. We figured, since you all are old enough and responsible enough, you were allowed to have your own key to inside."

They all thanked the two men, and they were all smiling for a period, before Eddie asked what was inside the fifth box.

"Ah, well, the fifth box was meant for Jack..."

A simple handful of words can make six people go quiet.

Rudy broke the silence by saying that they should all get going home, so that they don't waste the rest of their free day at school.

The teenagers nodded, and thanked their friends once again, before bidding them good bye.

As the group made their way towards the door, Rudy called out after them.

"Hey, Kim!" he said, "It's hot outside, what's with the long sleeved shirt?"

To Rudy, Bobbi and Eddie it seemed to be nothing but a harmless joke.

Only because they did not know.

Kim glanced down at her body to her long sleeved shirt. She had stopped wearing the bandages, but stuck to long sleeves since she was not that comfortable having people see her wrists.

"Oh," she said, giving a laugh (that only Milton and Jerry understood as nervous), "I felt a bit chilly today, so I didn't wear a short sleeve."

There was some nodding between three people, as an odd silence filled the air.

"Makes sense," Jerry spoke up, "man, it was kinda windy this morning."

"Yeah," Milton agreed.

Kim turned to look at both boys.

Milton wore a thin lipped smile, while Jerry had his hands shoved into his jean pockets.

She must have looked a bit lost, because Jerry gave her a small wink, and she regained her composure.

"C'mon guys," Eddie groaned, "I don't wanna be here anymore."

"Yeah," Kim said, clearing her throat, "Let's go."

"See you guys, later!" Rudy called out as they left.

They left the gym and Eddie turned right towards the hallway that lead to his locker.

"Bye, Eddie!" Milton said.

"Later!" the dark-skinned boy called out.

As they continued down the hallway and up the stairs that lead to the second floor, Kim spoke up.

"You guys are convincing. Convincing liars."

Jerry chuckled.

Milton raised his hands in his defense, "Well it _was_ kinda cold outside!"

"I lie won't kill you, Milton," Jerry teased.

They walked down the hall, until they reached the fork in the road, where Jerry turned left towards his locker bank, "See you guys tomorrow!"

"Bye!" the red head and blonde said in unison.

Once again, she acted like it was fine and his cheeks went bright pink.

Milton and Kim walked in an odd silence until Milton spoke up.

When Kim thought about it hours later in her room, she was not sure why there were so many silences whenever she was around.

Was it because there was nothing to say?

Or maybe, she enjoyed the silence to all the noise?

"So," Milton said, scratching the back of his neck, "I've, umm, noticed that you've been hanging out a lot lately with Donna Tobin and Grace."

Kim turned to him, "We'll still friends, right?"

"Of course we are," Milton laughed reassuringly, "I've just noticed that."

"Oh."

"What are they like?"

"They're nice. Different than what I'm used to" – he chuckled, understanding she was used to boys – "but yeah, they're nice. Why?"

"No reason."

She raised her eyebrows, "Wait, do you like _Donna_?"

"No-"

"_Grace_?"

"_No._"

"Oh," Kim replied. She gave a small laugh, "wow, I'm smart, jumping to conclusions and all."

As they reached their lockers, Milton spoke up, "You're not dumb. You're smart. And passionate. You're funny and one of my best friends. And" – he gently reached out, and pulled up the sleeve of her long sleeve – "you don't need to hide your scars, Kim."

Kim blinked a few times, processing the words. She felt her heart skip a beat and her voice grow higher as she spoke faster:

"But they're so _ugly_. Milton, people will always _judge me_ now when they see them! They'll think I self-harm-"

"But you _don't_, Kim! They show that you _made it!_ You were_ strong!_"

She licked her lips and turned her gaze from Milton to the lines on her flesh, her voice no longer fast and high, now quiet and soft, "You think so?"

"Yeah," Milton said, giving Kim a small smile, "… you know what Jerry thinks about them?"

She looked up due to those words. For some reason, it intrigued her to know what Jerry though about her.

"What?"

"He thinks that you're _una guerrera_. He thinks that you're a female warrior. Through history, they've always been known to be smart, talented, short-tempered" – a tiny smile crept on her face at the mention of her temper, he knew her so well – "beautiful. You fit their description."

Kim looked up, her eyebrows raised, "Beautiful?"

"Well maybe that's just one flaw,"Milton teased.

He let go of her wrist, and turned to his locker to open it and get ready to leave.

His bag was slung on his shoulders, as he closed his locker and started to walk away.

Kim went to open her locker, when she heard Milton call her from the end of the hallway, "Kim!"

She looked up.

Milton had turned to face her, and was now walking backwards.

"They're cancelling school tomorrow, because tomorrow's some other type of holiday in Seaford, so I'll see you next week!"

"Bye, Milton!"

"Bye!"

He turned around, so his back was now facing her, and she watched him leave.

* * *

While she walked home from school, Kim was not sure whether to cry because of the dark, murky thoughts that kept entering her head (even when she tried to push them out, they kept showing up whenever she was alone), thoughts that whispered things to her such as; "When's the funeral? The official one?", "Do you think he would miss you as much as you miss him?" and "Do you think anybody would cry if it was you, Kim? Would they hurt and ache for you?"

And as unsure as she was of whether or not to cry, she was even more unsure of another feeling that she felt inside of her. It was not the sadness from the assembly. It was something else.

Happiness?

It did not really make sense, but the emotion seemed similar to 'happiness', or whatever that was nowadays.

Regardless of what the emotion's true name was, Kim decided to label it 'happiness'.

It was an odd emotion, happiness, it made her want to lift her head to the changing after noon sky and laugh. Laugh at nothing in particular and laugh even though nothing was happy.

She just wanted to laugh.

And then, she just wanted to cry.

The more she thought about it though, the more it seemed to make sense. Even though the emotions were complete opposites, there must be a certain line one crosses which must include both.

It was possible for the world to be both happy and sad at the same time, because if it was not, then it would not be in balance.

And if it was not in balance, it would fall and break into a million pieces.

So, as she walked across her front lawn and onto her porch, she realized that her world was probably sad and happy at the same time, because of the balance.

Balance.

That night, a minute before midnight (because she had miscalculated when to make the indent onto her wooden chest, and done it too early), she scratched in the seventh scratch and given 'happiness' a new name.

It was not 'balance', but something else.

A word she had grown to enjoy, because its effect could be both positive and negative.

'Discovery'.


End file.
